


The Weather Outside is Frightful

by christinefromsherwood



Series: December 2020 Gifts [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood
Summary: It's very close to Christmas when Q and James get snowed in. Whatever shall they do to pass the time?
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: December 2020 Gifts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071785
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	The Weather Outside is Frightful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storm_of_sharp_things](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things/gifts).



> STORMY THING!!!! HAPPY CHRISTMAS AND ONLY THE BEST IN THE NEW YEAR!!!! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS FIC! hehehehe 🤗🤗

“Snow,” Q moaned. 

“Meow,” agreed the unhappily named Snowflake as she braved putting one paw into the white pillow only to jump back immediately at the first sign of its treacherousness: the cold.

“Hmmm,” said James.

“Too much snow.” Q stood in the doorway of what had previously been their lovely back-garden patio. 

“Don’t look at me, darling. You were the one playing _I’m Dreaming Of A White Christmas_ yesterday.”

“I’d like to ask for a refund, James.”

“Well, no matter how many times you call me god in bed, I still don’t control the weather.” 

Q briefly contemplated untangling his arms from the blanket he had burritoed himself in to jab James in the ribs. In the end, he decided it wasn’t worth it. 

“Shut up,” he said instead and nudged him with his hip. “I had plans.”

“Plans change all the time, darling.” 

James sounded maddeningly calm. As though it didn’t bother him one bit that it had snowed overnight and now there was twenty inches of sticky, white, cold- _cold_ - **cold** stuff all over the roads and houses and their lovely patio where Q had planned to string the fairy lights that morning, before getting started on the Christmas shopping.

Huffing quietly, Q narrowed his eyes at him. He suspected James would be singing a very different tune if it was the Aston buried under piles and piles of snow; if he hadn’t left it at the MI6 garages for the weekend. But for all the times James himself liked to rant about the unfairness of the new layout of work forms, or the audacity of his employers offering the services of experienced therapists and then insisting he use them, he really was surprisingly uncooperative when it came to joining Q in his more grumpy moods. Like now. 

Q supposed he couldn’t begrudge him if the therapy was working and this sudden, horrific agreeableness and _betrayal_ was the byproduct. But still: **snow**. 

James must have noticed his piercing look because he smiled and went to tug Q’s blanket tighter around his shoulders. 

“Now, don’t look like that, darling. I just meant that we- that _you_ can make new plans,” he said in that lovely, deep voice of his that made Q shiver just a little. His eyes sparkled.

And suddenly, being snowed in for the day didn’t seem so terrible. In fact, Q could see them spending the day together quite happily. In bed. In front of the fireplace. Maybe, top it all off with a lovely hot bath. 

Yes, that would do quite nicely. 

“Oh,” he said with just enough of a purr to make his intentions clear. “What did you have in mind?”

James bent to whisper in his ear. 

“Well.” His voice was silky sweet. “There’s those drawers chock full of useless crap and tangled cables you’ve been promising to clean out for three months but never found the time for.”

Q gasped at the- at the- at the _outrage_. “ _Useless?!_ They’re not useless! I need them!”

Blanket burrito forgotten, Q chased after his horrible, laughing boyfriend. He could laugh! _Useless_ cables! Useless?! And who’d repaired his broken laptop charger, huh?! That’s what Q would like to know!

“Who’d repaired your broken laptop charger, huh?” Q called out, skidding on socked feet as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. “ _And_ the remote control when you spilled your martini on it?! I seem to remember numerous-”

“It’s _three_ drawers, Q. You’re hoarding,” said James, eyes and voice warm--with condescension! 

Hoarding? _Hoarding_?! Oooooh-

“Well, let’s talk about your socks then!”

James stopped short of the kitchen counter and narrowed his eyes. 

“My socks?”

Q raised his chin triumphantly. “You want me to show you? I can show you.”

“What _about_ my socks?”

“Well, come on then.” 

James had some nerve talking about Q’s drawers, when _his socks_ -! Well, if he had more than five _complete_ pairs, Q would resign his position as the Quartermaster! 

And all of them _balled up_! Elastics horrendously stretched! And it was their _shared_ sock drawer! Not counting the thousand singles _overflowing_ -! And it wasn’t like he _wore_ them! 

Honestly, he had _some nerve_!

They stalked together up the stairs, forgetting all about the snow. They forgot all about poor Snowflake, too. 

She sat before the open patio door batting her white paw at the cold, wet thing distrustfully. _She_ had also had plans that day. There was that one spot on the terrace right behind the door where the sun hit quite nicely and where one could sit and terrorize all the birds. And now? Snowflake gave a frustrated meow. 

Indeed, white Christmas seemed to her a great sham. But perhaps… Yes. 

Gently, like one might with the weakest kitten, Snowflake took one edge of the blanket fallen beside her in her teeth. It was strange, terrible and cold outside right now, but that didn’t mean Snowflake was going to simply _abandon_ her bird-watching plans. 

She was a cat with a great sense of follow-through and a warm blanket for a pillow. She made her way to the door.


End file.
